


Like Strangers, You and I

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Gay Dennis Reynolds, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Sad Ending, Vermont
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: Mac gets the hanahaki disease, and figures the only way to cure it is to run away from Dennis and never see him again. But doesn’t absence make the heart grow fonder?Based on the song “Like Ships” from Over the Garden Wall
Relationships: Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Denny

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nicotinedaydream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicotinedaydream/gifts).



> this is a roller coaster

Mac had a headache that wouldn’t go away. It got worse when he went to work, and especially when he’d watch the hockey game with Dennis. Dennis couldn’t possibly be the cause of the headache, though. Dennis was his everything; the one thing he truly loved more than Poppins. If anything, the headache was caused by all the alcohol he consumed with Dennis. “Hey, Denny?” he walked into Paddy’s one day, clutching his head. “Denny?” 

Dennis was at the counter, bickering with Dee. He turned away for a moment to look at Dennis with an exasperated expression. “What, Mac? What could possibly be _so important—“_

Mac burst out, “I can’t drink beer anymore. It’s messing with my system and giving me a headache.” 

Dennis pretended to have sympathy. “Oh no, is someone a little hungover?” he whined in a baby voice. He switched to his normal voice. “Get over it, dickhead.” This would usually seem unhealthy or abusive, but Mac refused to see it that way. 

“Y-You’re such a jokester, Dennis,” he chuckled softly. A ringing noise hummed in his ears. He felt like he had to throw up. “I-I’m going to use the bathroom before I start working.” He pointed to the bathrooms and started walking over, not taking his eyes off of the pretty boy in the blue plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. 

“Make it quick, because we might actually get a customer!” Dennis called after him.

Mac stumbled into the bathroom and collapsed against the wall in a fleeting moment of light-headedness. “Fuck!” he spat before entering a raging fit of coughing. He felt a little blood come up, but it was nothing compared to the red rose petal that lay in his hand. “Oh no,” he whispered, his head spinning, “no no no no no...” he threw the flower petal in the trash and splashed water on his face. He’d heard of this before. It was called the hanahaki disease. It happens when you fall in love so hard that it makes you sick. Your lungs fill up with flower petals until you choke on them, and it’s only cured when the person of interest loves you back. 

Dennis could never love Mac in return, so Mac tried a prayer in the handicap bathroom stall. “Heavenly Father, I beg you to remove the sinful disease infested inside my body. I have shown nothing but love and devotion to You and Your son, Jesus Christ, so I beg You to help me along this journey. Until the day I die, I will continue to praise You if you help me just this once. In Your name, I pray. Amen.” He bent over the toilet for another coughing fit before standing up, wiping the residue off of his mouth, and returning to work. 

Dennis handed him a broom right away. “Charlie’s gone today, so I hope you know how to use this.” 

Mac held the broom to his chest. “Y-Yes, Denny.” 

“Don’t call me Denny. It makes it sound like we’re gay, when it’s clearly just you.” 

Mac’s heart shattered. _It’s clearly just you._ Now he knew for a fact that he was never going to get better.


	2. Vermont

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac gets a “genius” idea after an argument with Dennis.

Mac tried to stay in Philly for as long as he could. He let the petals keep spewing from his lips, but only in private. He allowed the headache to stay while he hung out with Dennis. He knew there was no way he could survive, so he didn’t even try. If dreams can’t come true, then why not pretend? But he had to tell him at some point, maybe to alleviate the pain. “Dennis?” he asked one evening, “What are you doing?” 

Dennis was scrolling on his computer, looking very concentrated. His reading glasses perched on the tip of his nose, making him appear like an old man. “Nothing,” he said. 

“Okay, then I suppose you’re not busy enough to talk about something? I have a secret, and—“ 

“You know what? It actually _is_ kind of important, now that I think about it.” 

Mac took a look at Dennis’s computer screen. “What the hell, man?! You’re looking at Facebook?! I have a serious issue that I want to talk about, and you don’t care enough to pause scrolling through Facebook?” 

Dennis slammed his computer shut. “Fine!” he shouted, “You have my attention. Now, what useless thing is on your mind?!” 

Mac’s heart started to beat faster and faster as he shouted, “I have the hanahaki disease! I’m in love with you, and it hurts! You’re in my heart, in my mind, and now in my lungs as I cough up rose petals day and night. And you know what? You don’t even care.” He had tears in his eyes. “And I’ll never get better. My love for you is going to kill me, and you’ll never be able to help it. Because you’re _straight_. We’ll never be in love. We’re always going to be roommates instead of soulmates. And it _hurts_.” 

Dennis stared at him. “I’m not following,” he said. 

Mac started sobbing. His eyes were red and puffy. “When I look at you,” he began, “I see the stars. I see the planets. I see everything and anything possible. A world of possibilities held between you and me, but they only seem real when I look into your eyes. We could be everything, Dennis. We could take over the world. But you know why we can’t? It’s because when we look into each other’s eyes, I see the heavens and you see the ground.” 

“So what are you going to do? I can’t just turn gay all the sudden for you,” the older man scoffed.

Mac sniffled as he realized what he had to do. “I’m going away,” he said, “to Vermont. If I get away from you, maybe it won’t hurt as much, or it’ll go away. I just can’t do this anymore.”

Dennis’s jaw tightened. “Fine by me,” he said, “Go live a happy life in Vermont, or die trying.”

And with that, Mac slammed the door to the apartment and walked down to the bus stop. Surely he had enough bus credit to cover the distance.


	3. Nate Carter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac begins his life in Vermont 
> 
> This might be the second to last chapter, but it might be the third to last chapter.

Mac was coughing a lot during his bus ride. With every petal that came up, he whispered “he loves me” or “he loves me not.” Three out of three bus trips decided that Dennis did not love him. In other words, Mac was going to drown in a pile of flowers. “Here we are,” he whispered, staring up at a hotel in Vermont. The air was brisk and he wished hadn’t cut off the sleeves of Dennis’s trashed shirts. He sighed and put his nose into the collar of his shirt, trying to shield his face from the cold. He inhaled deeply, accidentally accepting Dennis’s musky scent into his nose. It intoxicated him, made his head spin, and brought him back to all the things they did together. 

No. He couldn’t think about Dennis. That’s not why he came here. Mac sighed and pushed the doors of the hotel open. He stood in the lobby, admiring the smells. He walked up to the desk. “How much is one night?” he asked. 

The front-desk teen looked him up and down. “One night? By yourself? I recommend the motel down the block. Five bucks a night.” 

Mac nodded and left. He walked around the block and came across a little motel. It was a little dusty and had red neon lights that lit up the word “Vacancy.” Mac chuckled, “No wonder you have vacancy.” He walked in and asked for a room. He was led by an old man to room 316. “Like the Bible verse,” Mac said to the man, “For god so loved the world, he gave his one and only son, so that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” 

The motel worker grunted, “Good for you, kid.” He sauntered away, leaving Mac alone. Mac twisted the door open and slung his duffel bag onto the sheets of his one bed. There was a bit of mold on the walls, and there was a disturbing buzzing sound coming from the fridge. 

“It’s just for a few nights,” said Mac, “just until I get back on my feet.” He kicked off his shoes, then turned on the TV for background noise. The hockey game was on. Mac’s heart fluttered as he remembered that he and Dennis had tickets to see that game tonight. Maybe Dennis chose someone else to go with him. Maybe Charlie or Frank. He lied down on the bed, careful not to hurt his back. He had to curl up to satisfy his headache and stomachache. His chest felt like it was crushing him. 

The game was uneventful and boring. It had no purpose without Dennis there to make predictions and jokes about the game. “Maybe I should call him up,” whispered Mac, “I could tell him I’m sorry. This was an overreaction. Maybe if we just had more time—“ his dialogue was interrupted by a raging fit of coughing. This time, an entire rose came up. He held it against his chest. The blood from the petals soaked into his shirt, but he didn’t care. This rose was all he had left of his best friend. He started to cry. He missed Philly already. He missed Paddy’s, Charlie, Dee, Frank, Poppins, hockey, and... well, you know who else. 

Mac decided he would avoid thinking about Dennis at all costs. He turned off the hockey game, threw his shirt in the trash, and blocked Dennis’s phone number. He was quitting cold turkey. He put on a sweater with some jeans before heading out to Walgreens. 

At Walgreens, he purchased a cane. It was getting hard to walk long-distance. “Any chance you have a remedy for hanahaki?” he asked a shaky, ginger, teenage worker, damn well knowing the answer was no. 

The worker looked at him forlornly. “I-I’m sorry, Sir. Only one thing works for hanahaki.” 

Mac nodded. “Okay, then. I’ll just buy this cane, then.” He handed the device to the worker. The cost came up to more than he could afford. The worker showed him sympathy and paid for the whole thing. 

“I had a brother,” he said, “who died of hanahaki. I know it’s rough. Come back any time if you need a meal or medicine. I want to help you.” 

Mac chuckled and smiled softly. “God bless you,” he said in return, “What’s your name?” 

The teenager replied, “Nate. Nate Carter.” He shook Mac’s hand. Mac shook his hand in return and walked out of the store with a warm feeling. Maybe there was something out there in Vermont for him. 


	4. Meanwhile, in Philadelphia / End Credits

Meanwhile, in Philadelphia... 

Dennis hated to admit it, but he missed Mac. Things had gotten a lot quieter down at the bar after he left. “Do you know where Mac went?” asked Charlie, “He won’t answer his phone.” 

Dennis battled with himself internally before answering, “Vermont.” There was no use in lying if there was nothing he could do about it. “He left for medical reasons.” 

“Why the hell would he go to Vermont for medical reasons? What doctor does Vermont have that we don’t?” Charlie stared at him in disbelief. 

Okay, now it was fine if he lied. “Something about the air in Vermont is fresher than the air in Philly, I guess. Something’s wrong with his lungs.” He leaned on the counter and listened to the soft hum of everything around him. The ceiling fan, the radio, the neon signs... everything. Everything except Mac.

“Well, we should pay him a visit!”

Dennis slammed his fist on the table, shaking. “NO! We CAN’T visit him.”

“Why not? Who died and left you in charge?”

“Well, for starters,” Dennis’s breath got heavier and his words were tense. “I _own_ this goddamn bar and I can _fire_ you whenever I want to. Plus, Mac wouldn’t want us to visit him. He’s sick, and I...” in a moment of realization, everything stopped. “...I don’t want to catch it. If I spend time with him, I might catch it.” 

“Catch what?”

“His sickness.”

”What sickness?”

Dennis was close to tears. This was all his fault. If he had just shown Mac a little more compassion, maybe things would’ve gone better. Maybe he would’ve stayed until Dennis saw him the way he was supposed to all along. “N-No more questions,” Dennis huffed, running a hand through his hair. “I have to go. Tell Dee that I might not come back.” He looked into Charlie’s eyes. “Do that for me, Charles, and I will never ask for anything else.” He put his hands on Charlie’s shoulders and squeezed tightly. 

Charlie exhaled unevenly. “Are you telling me you’re going away? Like how Mac did? It’ll just be me and Frank and Dee? I can’t do that, man. I can barely read, much less run a business. I’m just a lowlife janitor, not a—“ 

“Just until I get back. If I don’t get back by next week, sell the bar. Marry the waitress, get a real house, find a job, quit drinking and huffing. Go to college, maybe. There’s just something really important I have to take care of.” He gave one last nod before jogging out of the restaurant with a heavy heart. He went to his apartment to grab a stash of dollar bills and threw together a suitcase. He then ran through the pouring rain to the bus stop. 

Rain blended with the single tear that fell down his face. It was his fault for being this careless. Hanahaki is fatal, and maybe it would be best if Mac’s last moments were spent with the man he loved. Maybe it could save him. But time was running out; Dennis could feel it. 

The bus arrived fifteen minutes later. Dennis swiped his bus card and chose a seat. Before he sat down, he saw something beside the seat. He picked it up and observed it. “A rose petal,” he whispered, “M-Mac?” He slipped the petal in his pocket and stared out the window through all three bus stops. He tried texting Mac for his address, but the message wouldn’t even go through. Maybe it was too late. Dennis broke down, shaking and crying violently. “Can this bus go any faster?!” 

That night, on the third bus, he fell asleep against the cool glass of the window. He dreamt of holding Mac in his arms, kissing him until all the flower petals disappeared from his lungs. The color returned to Mac’s face, and his breaths were no longer labored. Dennis asked him if he felt okay, and in return, Mac straddled his hips. He told Dennis that he’d never felt better as he took off his shirt and undid his jeans. Laying in the petals from earlier, Dennis felt almost powerless. His chest rose and fell with each breath. He felt needy, desperate, and thirsty for Mac’s touch. He whined softly, staring into the muscular boy’s deep brown eyes. Nothing could break this moment. Mac bent down, his lips hovering above Dennis’s mouth. He kissed him softly. Dennis went for another kiss, but Mac pulled away. Softly, he whispered, “Wake up.” 

Dennis opened his eyes. “Where am I?” he mumbled as he took a look around his surroundings. He was at a bus stop in Vermont. Someone must have carried him out and set him down. The sun was coming up over the tops for the buildings. “Oh my god!” he exclaimed, grabbing his suitcase, “I gotta get to Mac!” he ran towards the closest hotel he could find. He rang the bell on the counter rapidly. “Did a scruffy gay man in his thirties come here? His name is Mac McDonald. Please don’t mess with me, I really need an answer PRONTO!” He slammed his fist on the counter. 

A worker rushed to the front. “Um, a scruffy, homeless-looking man came by yesterday.” 

“What color were his eyes?” 

“I-I don’t know.” 

“Did he have muscles?” 

“Yeah, I guess. He looked like a puppy, if anything.” 

“WHERE IS HE?!” Dennis shouted. 

The worker tensed. “Sir, please calm down. I recommended him to the motel down the street, because he clearly couldn’t afford—“ 

“I don’t need to know why!” Dennis whispered insanely, grabbing the worker by the shirt collar. “ _Tell me where he went._ ” 

The worker nodded nervously and wrote the address of the hotel on a piece of paper. Dennis let go of the worker, then shoved the paper in his pocket. “Thank you,” he muttered, “Have a fucking FABULOUS life.” He stormed out and tracked down the address. At the motel, he ripped open the guest book and searched feverishly for an entry put in yesterday. The only one written down was for room 316. Dennis burst down the sidewalk and kicked down the door of Mac’s room. 

“I’M SORRY!” he shouted, but there came no response. The lights were on, the TV was playing The Office, and the bedsheets were undone. A trail of bloodied rose petals decorated the floor, leading towards the bathroom. Dennis followed cautiously. “Mac? I-It’s me, Dennis. D-Denny?” he sat outside the bathroom door for a moment, too scared to go in. If it was as bad as he suspected, he would never forgive himself. “I just wanted to say... I love you. I never knew how to accept it until now, but I’m totally in love with you. In... in a gay way. I was just hard on you because I didn’t want to let you in. You thought that _you_ had really bad internalized homophobia, but look at me. I didn’t even look into my feelings when it got you sick. And now...”

He opened the door to see Mac laying on the ground in front of the toilet, roses all over his chest. He was pale. He smelled horrible. His eyes were sunken and his lips were slightly open. He no longer looked like a playful puppy who’d stay up until three in the morning, drinking and slurring the melodies of pop songs. He looked cold and tired. Faded. Dennis knelt down beside him, kissed his forehead, and began to dial the morgue. 

“...it’s all my fault.”


End file.
